


Assassin (Hitmen Extraordinaire)

by OreoPromises



Series: How To Get Away With Murder [1]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Assasin game, Dancing, Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung don't think things through, University AU, golden maknae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-01 06:25:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10182866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OreoPromises/pseuds/OreoPromises
Summary: Kim Taehyung considers himself a master at games, and when his University announce a campus-wide game of Assassin, he's all in.Now all that's left is finding his target.





	1. Golden

**Author's Note:**

> E

Taehyung realised his mistake a little late in the game, making far too much noise playing drums on all of the gym equiptment, forgetting for a second where he is and the fact that it’s just gone past midnight. He bit his tongue to keep from cursing as sudden light jumps up behind him, the noise of a light switch being flicked on just behind him sending him in a panicked run across the room to a storage cupboard. He balanced himself (badly) on a medicine ball someone had been to lazy to store properly and shut the door as silently as possible as the footsteps got louder.  
   
It was all his fault really. He could blame it on Jimin all he wanted, but his best friend was partly to blame at best, because Taehyung should have learned by now. He should have learned that any decision made with said friend at two in the morning after a peppermint-mocha fueled study session was never going to go well. Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung had a reputation for making excited decisions that they never actually bothered to think about much, apart from the glory and laughs they would get should they pull it off. This time, it hadn’t just been the drink of the Gods that had brought Taehyung to where he was now, crouching in a storage cupboard of the campus gym, half-sitting on a medicine ball. It had certainly not helped, but this time they had found a stronger incentive in the ridiculous promise of extra credit towards their overall grade in the subject invented to torture undergrads to within an inch of their lives. Otherwise known as the dreaded social studies Taehyung and Jimin, as drama majors minoring in dance, were obliged to suffer through every day. The idea was simple. 

Kill someone.

Taehyung had thought he’d died of social-studies-caused sleep deprivation when a bouncing Jimin had yelled at him one day that their least favourite class was staging a game of Assassin. But sure enough, a week after they’d signed up for it, he’d gotten a really shady text from their University. He hadn’t been told his target’s name. The text had been vague.

Dance major. Busan. Golden.

For a panic-infused, scream-worthy moment, Taehyung thought Jimin was his target, cursing the teacher for turning them against each other in some clever revenge for all the times he’d had to send one of them out of class to calm down from a laughing fit (normally Taehyung.) But Jimin minored in dance, having already received more than enough recognition to get into a dance academy should he chose to apply. So, that ruled him out, and Taehyung had spent hours stalking his classmates on social media, scrolling through instagram instead of working on papers due in and trying to ignore the impending doom of the upcoming exam season, with no success. 

It had been Jimin’s idea initially. As the upstanding, law abiding student that Park Jimin was, he had told a depressed Taehyung one night about a way dancers used to sneak into the college gym after hours without setting off any alarms. Most wore bandanas or masks just in case, but he’d been reassured that the camera guys were to busy stuffing their faces with coffee to actually monitor the CCTV.  
Which leads back to Tae’s current predicament, urging his breathing to shallow out (Jesus, he’d watched to many horror movies for this, but Hoseok’s face was always too funny) as the lights went back out, the figure in the doorway silhouetted by light disappearing in shadows.  
Light footsteps tread across the room, a wisp of wind finding its way through the slit Taehyung had left in the door as the person passed by the closet.  
The figure stopped at the end of the room one more time, standing still to listen as Taehyung’s heart leapt painfully, before silently closing the door behind him. A minute later, Taehyung followed.

He found the boy in a dance practice room down the next corridor, light trickling from below the door and the faint thump of hip-hop reaching Taehyung’s ears. Slowly, he peered around the doorframe, leaning on the door to look through the glass panel set in its middle.

His breath caught before he could help it. 

He couldn’t hear the music, not really, but he could see it. He saw it pouring out of every movement of the dancer in front of him, finally visible in the harsh practice room lights.  
He was tall, well built in a way that was different to Seokjin’s muscular form, with shiny black hair falling down over one eye. He looked like the kind of guy Taehyung tended to avoid, intimidating and serious and passionate. Taehyung was 100% sure his mouth was hanging open now, because damn that text wasn’t kidding. Dance major. Tae thought that you could see that even when the boy stopped, how he held himself, even when he wasn’t dancing his movements still looked the same. Fluid, confident. He didn’t dance like Jimin, more street than contemporary, and yet though his dancing was powerful, it was so much more. So much better.

Taehyung couldn’t help it. He opened the door slightly- thank God that didn’t make any noise, what were you thinking Kim Taehyung- just as the hip hop song the boy had been dancing to ended. The song that came on next was slower, English, one that Taehyung had never heard before. He couldn’t understand most of it, managing to catch a few ‘goodbyes’ and being way too proud of himself, but he could tell what kind of song it was. It was sad and beautiful and Taehyung thought that that was exactly what the dancer in front of him was, a freestyle made up on the spot coming so easily to him. At the last chorus, just as the music soared up for the last time, Taehyung might have gasped a little too loud, because the dancing stopped, and Taehyung ducked back behind the door just as the boy whipped around towards him.  
'All the better to see you with ' unexpected voice in Taehyung’s head whispered, as his target switched off the lights and made his way towards the dark corridor Taehyung was crouching in, just to the left of the doorframe. There was hardly any sound to his footsteps, but heavy breathing gave away the guy’s progress. Taehyung raised the tiny nerf gun he’d brought with him and pulled the trigger.  
The grunt of surprise that followed had Taehyung whooping, not even stopping when the hall lights flickered on as the tall boy looked down at him, shock written all over his handsome face.  
“How did you get in here?” A voice deeper than expected asked, and Taehyung stopped laughing to see the younger boy looking at him expectantly.  
“The key under the casing of the soap dispenser in the University toilets, missing the second-to-last step on the first flight of stairs and climbing through the sports hall window into the gym store room.”  
“Your a dance major?” Was all the boy said to that, and Taehyung chuckled a little at the fact that every single dancer on campus knew how to break into the University whenever they felt like it.  
“No. I’m just amazing at games. Got ya.” Taehyung was smiling, and though still clearly perplexed, a thin smile tugged the other boys lips too.  
“Assassin, huh? I have to admit I had no idea who my target was.”  
“That would be me, sir. Kim Taehyung, drama major, aegyo master and Hitman extraordinaire.” The other boy chuckled, helping Taehyung off the floor.  
“Jeon Jungkook. I’m guessing you already know about me, Mr Assassin.”  
“A little, I’m afraid. Still trying to work out what it meant by ‘Golden’, though.” The smirk that twisted the boy’s features was more what Tae had been expecting of the scary-looking guy far too hot for his own good that Taehyung had saw in the dance room, and it was more than a little alarming.  
“Well, you see” Jungkook gripped his arm, and drew him back into the mirrored dance studio, a confused Taehyung willingly dragged along, to curious to protest “ it’s kind of become a nickname, you see. Golden.”  
And with that Jungkook turned Taehyung round slightly so he could see his own back in the mirror, so he could see the post it note stuck on the back of his hoodie, a little skull and crossbones drawn on it, and Jungkook pointed across the room, where a lone foam bullet was lying dejectedly against a wall.  
“Your aim was a little off, Taehyung-si.” Taehyung gaped at his own reflection, remembering the feel of Jungkook’s hand on his back as he heaved him off the floor a second ago, and the younger boy laughed, amused voice echoing in the small room as he walked out of it, into the darkness of the hallway, throwing a grin over his shoulder.

“Better luck next time, Hitman extraordinaire.”


	2. Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimin needs to win. He needs to. Because if he doesn't kill his target, Taehyung will never let him forget it.  
> Seokjin expects, and has decided to ignore, al lot of passive-aggressive texts from Jungkook telling him that there's no way he could beat his time.

Jimin laughed really, really, really hard when he found out that his friend was dead.

Taehyung had came home yesterday morning- waking Jimin up as he made himself cheer-up ramyeon at 3 am- to tell a very happy Jimin about his epicly failed attempt at killing his target, Jeon Jungkook. As a dance major, Jimin knew Jungkook more than Taehyung did, but hadn’t spoken to the younger boy that often.  
Still, anyone who beats your best friend hilariously easy at games is someone you like automatically.

Taehyung hadn’t appreciated Jimin’s joy.  
“Hey, you only lasted longer than I did because you’ve holed yourself in the apartment all day watching dramas.” Jimin huffed in protest.  
“That is not true!”  
Taehyung raised an eyebrow, dubious. “Jimin-ah, we’re best friends right?”  
“Of course.”  
“We’re soulmates, each other's better halves, the light of each other's lives. “ Jimin blinked. Clearly Taehyung’s recent defeat had lead him to be even more unpredictable than normal. “And as such” the younger continued “do you think I don't know your youtube history?”  
Jimin’s phone had been lying on the counter- he’d made Taehyung’s ramyeon for him so he didn’t need to worry about the apartment going up in flames and Taehyung flapping his arms wildly at it and trying to blow it out like a candle (once was enough)- and Taehyung typed the pin in and youtube lit up the screen.  
A few seconds later Taehyung had found Jimin’s history and was raising his eyebrows cheekily at the list of My love from another Star episodes.  
Jimin stuck his lower lip out cutely- no, not cutely, Taehyung was still mad at him.  
“Today was my day off” he whined.  
“Then you’ve had enough you time, time to play the game Jimin-ah.” Jimin couldn’t help but laugh at Taehyung’s excited expression as he slurped his noodles, lips creeping into a slow smile as he felt Taehyung’s boundless energy chase away his sleepiness.  
“Fine” he said, leaning over to tease his best friend “I’ll kill my target tomorrow. And then I’ll rub your failure in your face for the rest of the semester.”  
“Oh” Taehyung laughed “we’ll see, Jimin-ah. We’ll see.”

 

Jimin actually had no idea what to do. He’d asked Taehyung this morning how he’d managed to find his target, but that little traitor had decided he wasn’t going to help and had pretended Jimin was invisible for a solid half an hour until he couldn’t take it and had to talk to someone before he exploded. So Jimin found himself sat on the grass outside College, feeling the sun heat his skin and thanking God he remembered to steal Taehyung’s sun glasses on his way here (revenge and self-preservation all in one), staring down at a text on his phone and trying to work out what it could mean.

Pink. Music major. Water balloons.

The music major bit was a pretty significant clue, but Jimin had no idea what to do with the other two...Pink hair? Pink water balloons? Surely he can’t be looking for someone who carries water balloons around campus, what kind of weirdo would do that?

He sighed in defeat and fell back on the grass, enjoying the smell of rain and cut grass signalling the spring that’s just about to bloom.  
He’d have been really be happy if he could lie on the grass all day until dance practice, but a sudden image of Taehyung’s smug face came to him and he sat up, refusing to entertain the idea of failure. He found himself pulling out his phone and punching in Yoongi’s number.  
“Hyung?”  
“What do you want?” Yoongi’s voice was thick with sleep on the other end of the phone and Jimin winced, realising he’s just woken a sleeping Min Yoongi and hoping the other boy is feeling too sleepy to come hunt him down and make him regret it.  
“What makes you think I want anything? What if I just want to talk?” Jimin asked, defensive.  
“Do you just want to talk?”  
There’s silence for a minute, and Yoongi chuckled softly.  
“I can’t lose to Taehyung, hyung” Jimin whined “and I don’t have any idea who my target could be.”  
“Ya, Jimin-ah, you should know better than this. It's just a game, you guys get so competitive sometimes.”  
“But if I lose he’ll never let me forget it!”  
Yoongi huffed. “I'd hazard a guess that's because you've already teased him so much for losing.”  
Jimin blinked stupidly, confused.  
“How did you know that?”  
Yoongi laughed lightly down the phone. “I know you two idiots, that's how. Need I remind you of the night you two were the last remaining property owners in monopoly?”  
“That was fun!” Jimin yelled, indignant, blushing as a few people give him funny looks as they pass.  
“You think me and Hoseok had fun relaying messages between you two idiots for weeks until Taehyung decided to call for a farewell to arms?”  
Yoongi was telling the truth- they hadn't spoken for weeks afterwards, despite being roommates, and it hadn't been all that fun. Taehyung finally admitted that he may have cheated slightly and they'd called it even, but they rarely spoke of it to this day in case it sparked another argument.  
“OK fine you might be right.”  
“Might be, huh?” Yoongi asked, and Jimin could hear the fondness in his voice and knew he was smiling.  
“But I really don't know what to do, hyung. And I want this extra credit.”  
“Why did you phone me? I hardly know anyone on campus, I won't be of much help”.  
Jimin felt silly, admitting the reason for his call, but he did it anyway.  
“Because Taehyung is the one with all the gossip but he's pretending he can't see me today.” Yoongi sighed. Dramatically.  
“You know he’ll help you if you’re nice to him.” He says, and Jimin shut his eyes, dreading all the sucking up he’ll have to do for help. Yoongi hung up laughing when he heared Jimin sigh too.

Taehyung hadn't been hard to find. Jimin just followed the smell of food and here he was, walking up behind Taehyung (he had less time to run away) as he sat slurping yet more ramyeon, playing a game on his phone that has an obnoxious amount of zombies in it.  
“Taehyung-ah!” Jimin called, sliding into the bench seat across from him. The other boy looked up and then straight back to the zombies.  
“Don't be like that, Tae” Jimin whines, stretching out across the table so Taehyung can see his hands despite remaining fixed on his phone. 

Fine. Pride be damned. Time for teddy bears. 

“I brought something for you, Tae” he tried, bringing out the cuddly toy he'd bought after his call with Yoongi. It was a monster, the green one from Monsters Inc, the movie they watched when Tae was sad.  
Taehyung looked up from his phone grumpily and eyed the monster. His eyes flickered to Jimin's. After a long minute he finally spoke.  
“You think you can buy my affection with cute, cuddly green Monsters that just happen to be my favourite Disney character?”  
“Yes.”  
Taehyung shrugged.  
“You know me well, gimme.” Jimin laughed hard as Taehyung put his arms out for the toy, dancing a little in his seat and smiling rectangularly.  
“Do you need help with the text?”  
Jimin nodded and fished his phone out of his pocket.  
“Pink. Music major. Water balloons” he read. “What on earth does that mean?”  
Taehyung’s expression was completely blank, and Jimin felt relief wash over him at getting some help.  
“Oh!” Taehyung clapped his hands, once, leaning closer over the table “I think I know who it is.”  
Jimin knows Taehyung gets along with almost everyone, but his campus knowledge is always surprisingly thorough. “You do?”  
“Yeah! It's the water balloons bit- have you not heard about the game a couple of years ago with the water balloons?”  
Jimin's expression must have shown how confused he was, because Taehyung chuckled and kept talking. “There was a first year a couple years back that took part in an assassin game like this one and it's kinda become campus legend. Even you should know it, Jiminie.”  
“What does this have to do with water balloons?” Jimin asked slowly.  
“The guy won the game by throwing a massive water balloon at his target in a baseball game- it popped and covered him in glitter from head to foot, took him ages to get it off him. People took pictures and put them up across campus, it was that good.”  
“My target...killed someone with a water balloon full of glitter?”  
“Yup” Taehyung was smiling like it was the most ordinary thing to talk about “his name’s Kim Seokjin. He was an acting major then but I think he studies music now.”  
“OK” Jimin said, nodding as he processes the new information “But what does pink mean?”  
Taehyung pouts. “That, I have no idea.”

Turns out Kim Seokjin’s a pretty popular guy, because the first person Jimin asks- a cute girl he finds in the music classroom- told him where he is. Well, she helps a little.  
“You’ll find him sat on the grass in the middle of the biggest group of people. Follow the sound of adoring laughter and he’s your man.”  
Jimin had been dubious about these ‘directions’ to say the least, but as soon as he’d walked around the campus grass he spotted a massive group of people. He knew some of them were theatre students, and some of Taehyung’s music major friends were there too, so he was fairly certain that he had the right people.  
Most of them wore sunglasses and light, summer clothing, and just happened to be some of the prettiest people Jimin had ever seen in his live- he roomed with Kim Taehyung.  
Apparently Seokjin was the kind of guy to surround himself with beautiful things, because Jimin’s eyes had immediately been drawn to a boy within the circle, tall and broad-shouldered and 100% what Hoseok would call a ‘dreamboat’. Someone said his name to get his attention, and Seokjin leaned towards them, smiling.

Got you.  
Now all I need to do is find out how to kill you.

 

The following day and Jimin had a plan (well, he had half a plan, but hey what was life without a little spontaneity?). Seokjin was a people-person, as yesterday had taught him- Jimin had followed him around campus, hopefully being discreet and not just seeming like a stalker, because there was no way Seokjin hadn’t had his fair share of those looking like he does. The guy had never been far away from a crowd of admirers. Jimin didn’t know how he could stand it all, he’d felt exhausted just watching.  
So his plan was simple- he’d go up and talk to the guy. Preferably when he wasn’t in a massive mob of people, but if that’s what it took to win this infernal game then Jimin was sure he had it in him. He was pretty well-liked himself.

“Kim Seokjin-si?” Seokjin, who’d been in the process of trying to flirt his way out of a library fine, didn’t seem at all surprised that a complete stranger knew his name.  
“Yeah, that’s me.” He smiled, and Jimin had kind of expected a player’s smile, had expected Seokjin to be slimy and fake, but was greatly disappointed in the warmth of a genuine smile. “Can I help you…” Seokjin leant closer a little and smiled again, waiting for a response.  
“J-Jimin.” Jimin cursed his damn shyness as he figured out what he was expected to say, but Seokjin had handed over his money to the librarian and was walking out. He turned just outside the door and signalled for Jimin to follow him.  
“Well, Jimin-ah, I am Seokjin. Most people just call me Jin, though. Whichever name is fine.” With all the interactions he has daily, Jimin finds himself wondering how Soekjin’s lips don’t fall off from all this smiling.  
“Ah, Ok. Jin.” They sat down outside again, and Jin pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket.  
“So, Jimin-ah. Is there anything I can do for you?” It crossed Jimin’s mind then, that Seokjin might think he’s a fan wanting an autograph or something, and he tries not to blush.  
“Well” Jimin clears his throat “I’m playing this game-”  
“Assassin?” Jin asks suddenly, and the way his eyes flare dangerously bright remind Jimin so much of Taehyung when he’s excited. He can’t help laughing.  
“Yeah. And I got this text telling me who my target is right?” Jin nods along, politely. “But I have no idea who it is. Someone heard me complaining and told me you know almost everyone on campus-”  
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Jin was laughing, but it was clear he was a little proud. Jimin pushed down the stab of guilt he felt.  
“And they said you were kind of amazing at this game, so…”  
“You want me to help figure out who your target is?” Jimin nodded, and Seokjin sat up a little straighter, clapping his hands. From his excited little jiggle, Jimin decided that there was something Seokjin could probably not do very well- dancing. Unfortunately for Jimin, he couldn’t think of any way to use that against him.  
“What clues did they give you?” Jin was asking.  
“Dance major, horses, converse.” Taehyung had came up with descriptors for Hoseok as soon as Jimin had asked him.  
“Horses?” Seokjin’s voice was high with amusement, and he took a couple of moments to think it over.  
“I know a dance major, Jungkook-ie...” Jimin tried to keep his face neutral, forcing the manic laughter down and making a mental note to let it out when he saw Tae next- “I think one of the guys he was dancing with wears converse a lot. Jungkook likes him- what was it again… Jung-Hoseok?”  
Uh oh.  
What now?  
“Ahh, I think I know who you’re talking about!” Jin looked elated, and his next question caught Jimin off guard a little.  
“Do you know Jungkook-ie?”  
He could say now. But that means he’d have to find a way to kill Seokjin before he saw Jungkook again and asked him, and that could be any time.  
“A little” He said instead, and Seokjin made a noise in the back of his throat, a fond smile playing on his lips.  
“Jungkook-ie needs to get out more” he laughed. “Spends way too much time by himself.” A comfortable silence- and Jimin hadn’t expected a silence with such a sociable person to be comfortable- fell, and Jin’s stomach rumbled loudly, making them both laugh as Seokjin held it dramatically.  
“Should we go and get something to eat?” Jimin asked, and Seokjin snapped his fingers happily, jumping up.  
“Sure! I’m paying!” And with that he marched across campus.

The sat opposite each other on a small table in Seokjin’s favourite coffee shop. Jin had went to place the order- undoubtedly charming whoever was behind the counter- and Jimin thought over his plan.  
Could he really do it now? They were close enough, surely, but would he be fast enough?  
A text lit up Seokjin’s screen where it lay on the tabletop, and Jimin looked at it automatically, without thinking.

Did you do it yet, hyung?

Jimin scolded himself for reading it, invading Seokjin’s privacy, but another one came through before he thought to look away.

I got my target waaaay quicker than this, grandpa. What’s taking so long?

Jimin just managed to read the name of the sender before the notification faded and Seokjin’s screen faded to black. 

Jungkookie <3

Tae’s target. And from the look of his texts, Seokjin knew Jimin was his target all along.


	3. Partners in Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimin has been checking over his shoulder for a certain devil named Kim Seokjin since he'd found out that the older boy had known they were each other's targets the entire day Jimin had been trying to fool him, but found his life hadn't been threatened once. Not. Even. Once.  
> What on earth has Jin been up to all day?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah~~ Sorry this is taking so long to post, college has been the wooorst lately. Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoy the next chapters! <3

He really should have saw this coming. Jimin was an alright actor- all the times when Taehyung and him made trouble and had to get out of it were probably to thank for that- but Seokjin was apparently much, much better. Had he known what Jimin was doing the whole time?  
Well, there really was no need to hide his target now, Jimin supposed. Where’s the fun in that?  
Seokjin came back to their table with a tray of coffee and cakes.  
“Here we gooo~” he sing-songed, and Jimin feels a lot more suspicious now, but the pure happiness radiating from his target can’t be put on. Seokjin really was that happy because of cake. He sits down and politely sets Jimin’s iced coffee in front of him, taking his own and putting the cakes between them. A cake barrier. Might come in handy.

Jimin made a big show of stirring his coffee with his straw, hearing ice crush in the bottom, before putting the straw to his lips. He’d wanted to catch Jin looking, but the other is stirring his own coffee.  
Damn it.  
_Drink it drink it drink it_ Jimin willed, but Seokjin looked up and meets his eye with an innocent confusion making his eyes wide.

“Did you poison my coffee?” Jimin blurted out, and it really wasn’t how he had planned this to go, but Jin just threw up his hands in frustration and threw himself further down in his seat, grumpy,  
“How did you know?” He exclaims, annoyed, but laughter lifted the ends of his words, and Jimin could feel his own lips tugging upwards too.  
“You left your phone behind- I didn’t mean to read it, “ Jimin corrected himself quickly, blushing, but Seokjin didn’t seem to care about the invasion of privacy “it’s just, a text lit up the screen and I couldn’t help but look over and I read it by accident.”  
The phone lit up as Jin unlocked it quickly, silently reading the texts that had tipped Jimin off, and practically howled when he saw the sender.  
“AISH” people looked over at their table at the yell, but most seemed to know Jin and just ended up laughing. Jimin had started giggling too, at the elder’s indignant expression. He thought Jungkook and Seokjin were a little like him and Tae- relentlessly teasing each other and relentlessly fond of each other. Because Jin couldn’t quite hide how funny he found this.

  
“I swear that boy will be the death of me, Jimin-ah.” He picked up his phone and started punching in a text, one that went on for a while and was probably very, very passive aggressive.  
Jimin laughed and almost sipped his coffee, distracted, before holding it away from him quickly, hand over his mouth only partly covering his surprised shriek.  
Seokjin, who had still been texting furiously and hadn’t looked up from his phone, bagged a fist on the table, smiling.  
“Damn it! That was so close.”  
“You’re gonna have to  try harder than that, hyung” Jimin teased, and Jin raised an eyebrow elegantly, slowly grinning.  
“I can do that, Park Jimin. Don’t you worry.” Seokjin’s own order- black coffee that was making Jimin wrinkle his nose across the table- lay cold, untouched, in front of them.

It seemed like Jin wasn’t the only one who needed to try harder, Jimin thought.  
Fine.  
Let the games begin.

*          *            * 

Jimin was suspicious.

It had been a day, a whole, uneventful day since he'd met Kim Seokjin and they'd vowed to kill each other. A whole day of looking over his shoulder for inhumanely gorgeous men lobbing pink water balloons in his direction, and nothing.  
What did that idiot think he was playing at?

Jimin couldn't relax enough to concentrate in any of his lessons- resulting in a very awkward moment in social studies when his team had been asked a question, only for their lecturer to realise that both team members were too busy looking around them and jumping at sudden noises to have any idea as to what he'd just asked them- and walked back to his dorm block as quickly as he could, making a mad dash across the grass in the hopes of avoiding any flying, deadly objects with his name on them.  
When he got to the lobby, however, he soon found out where Kim bloody Seokjin had been all day.

  
The only thing Jimin could see wherever he looked in the apartment building was his own face.  
This was all thanks to the lovely refurbishment his target had decided to do in his absence- millions (literally millions) of posters of Jimin under a ‘wanted dead or alive’ slogan had been glued and sellotaped everywhere. The desk had been completely gift-wrapped, as had the coffee table and windows. The seats had dozens of posters sewn into them and cushions had been made with the poster printed on them. The door would hardly open because of all the spare posters littering the floor and the handle had been decorated with a pretty pink ribbon, with ‘Park Jimin, Wanted Dead Or Alive’ sprawled on it in gold writing. Worse, when Jimin tried to escape all of the chaos, he found Jin had leapt up and down the staircase, sticking posters up and down the walls, and a massive sticker version had been placed on the front door of his and Taehyung’s apartment.  
Jimin's whole apartment building now knew who Kim Seokjin wanted dead.  
Jimin could only hope all of his admirers knew he meant figuratively, and that he wouldn't actually be jumped the next time he stepped outside. Not that he'd be doing that anytime soon….

 

“Jimin…” Taehyung said slowly, entering by shoving the door open partly and squeezing through it. The older boy sighed as he caught Taehyung’s bemused expression.  
“Saw the apartment block?”  
“Yup” Taehyung had finally managed to shove the door closed, paper ripping loudly as the posters protested. “Seokjin sure knows how to play, huh? I think you're a goner, Chimchim.”  
Taehyung ducked as a shoe went whizzing past his head. “I know! How can he do that in a day- people will jump me as soon as I open our door!”  
Tae had, very helpfully, started laughing, giggles loud as he pointed at his friend sprawled on his stomach on their couch. “Don’t worry, Jiminah~” he sang, climbing on top of his friend and hearing a pained groan, grinning. “I'll protect you!”  
“He's just the same as Jungkookie. He knew the whole time- how did he-”  
“Jungkook probably worked out who you were from his clues like I worked out who your target was.”  
Jimin groaned. “Taehyuuuuung. What am I going to do?”  
“Kill Jeon Jungkook for me” Tae said, voice light. “Or come up with something to kill Kim Seokjin.”  
Tae yelped as Jimin raised his head quickly enough to almost send him tumbling to the floor. “I could go buy a water balloon?” He asked excitedly. “Then he wouldn't see me until it was too late!”

  
Taehyung tutted and moved so they could sit side by side. “One- he literally invented that moved.  Two- you can't throw for shit.”  
“I can so!”  
“Jimin-ah. You threw a paper aeroplane at me in RE once and it went all the way across the room and hit Hoseok in the eye.”  
Jimin would be annoyed at the insult if he wasn't laughing so hard at the image of Hoseok that day, jumping out of his skin and screaming as Taehyung cracked up and their confused teacher thought Hoseok had been stung by a bee. Taehyung may have a point.  
“What should I do then?” He asks, jabbing a finger into his friends rib.  
“AW!” The younger boy shrieks, so loud Jimin winces “Why would I help you?”  
“Because you're Kim Taehyung. If anyone knows how to get away with murder, it's you.” Tae looks extremely pleased at this, but refuses to help Jimin kill his target, so Jimin goes back to scrolling through Internet articles on pranks in the hopes that Seokjin hasn't heard of all of them.

It's not actually as bad as Jimin thought it would be, leaving the safe haven that was their apartment. Sure, he gets a few looks walking across campus from people he knew were Seokjin’s friends, but no one had jumped him yet. He'd made it to social studies in one piece. One gasping, paranoid, suspicious as hell piece, but one piece all the same.  
“So” Taehyung whispered, leaning closer to Jimin so their teacher couldn't hear them “I found out where Seokjin lives.”  
“You what?” Jimin whisper-yelled, earning a look from their lecturer and smiling apologetically. “How on earth, Tae.”  
Taehyung’s smirk makes Jimin question why he's friends with Satan reincarnate. “Namjoon hacked into the college system for me” he says slyly.  
“TAE!” Jimin yells, forgetting to try and keep it down because of his shock. “You can't do that!”  
“I know, that's why I got Namjoon to do it for me. He never gets into trouble.” Jimin's hand makes a loud thud as he slaps it over his face, trying to ignore the temptation of finding a new target. One with a rectangular smile and invisible devil horns.  
But he supposes this really is Taehyung’s way of helping.  
He sighs. “Where, then?”  
The grin that spreads over Taehyung’s handsome face makes Jimin want to run for the hills. “I knew you'd come round, Jiminie.”

 *          *           *

Normally, Jimin's Tuesday nights are spent with Taehyung, ramyeon, and whatever drama they're obsessed with at the time. This Tuesday night, however, the two seem to be stood at the gate of a castle. Ok, maybe that's an exaggeration, but to college kids like Tae and Jimin the house whose drive they're on seems as close to a castle as a college student can get.  
It's huge, a great big block of white brick in the middle of a drive, windows everywhere reflecting light and making them squint.  
“Where are we?” Jimin half whispered, and Tae- who'd shoved him in a taxi after class and yelled a random address to the driver- smiled.  
“Welcome, master Jimin, to the Kim family's humble abode.”  
With all the homework his teachers had decided to shove on him during the day, Jimin had almost forgot what Taehyung had told him in social studies. But when he remembers his eyes widen and his mouth drops.

“Seokjin lives here? Is he royalty?”  
Taehyung chuckled, but his shrug showed that he really doesn't know that much more than Jimin.  
“Must come from a wealthy family. He lives here alone.”  
Jimin shook his head as Taehyung shoved a snapback on, a black mask covering half his face.  
“We’re going to get lost in there- look how many rooms it has!”  
“Well we need to get in first, don't we Jiminie. Maybe we’ll be chased away by rabid fans Seokjin keeps as security before we make it to a window.” His tone seemed to suggest he thought of that as a comfort.  
Taehyung had started walking as he spoke, Jimin following him hesitantly as he pulled on a mask and cap of his own.  
“Tae, what are we doing? This is illegal~” Jim’s pulse beat so hard in his ears he thought for a moment it was thunder, his palms sticky with sweat as he watched his friend walk casually towards a stranger’s door.  
“Like Seokjin would call the cops on us, have you saw him? Demons know demons, Chiminie, and if ever there was a trickster as reckless as me, it’s Kim Seokjin.” Jimin hadn’t even finished rolling his eyes at his friend’s dramatics before Taehyung had jabbed the bell quickly and positioned himself at Jin’s door.  
Jimin flung himself around the side of the building, mentally cursing his friend, just as a distant voice spoke behind the door.  
“One moment!”

Around the side of the house, ducking as Jin's progress through the house was heard through the glass, Jimin found the first window he came to locked, but the second was sitting slightly open. The ease with which he entered Seokjin’s house made him suspicious (excited too, but also like he was the worst person walking on the earth, as he heard Tae’s wavering voice and Jin’s bright greeting in return) but he climbed through the window all the same.  
He landed quietly on tiles, and looking around found himself in a kitchen bigger than his and Tae’s bedrooms combined, decked up with black and white tiles and work tops, pristine.  
“I’m really so sorry about this” Taehyung was saying, his voice far quieter than Jimin was used to in his ‘embarrassment’. “You know what, I’ll just- I’ll just go-thank you for your ti-”  
“No, no, don’t be ridiculous, I’m not busy.” Jin’s voice was warm, but Jimin couldn’t tell if he was buying Taehyung’s act without seeing him. Best to act quickly.  
Shoving himself up off the tiles, Jimin walked quickly down the attached corridor and ducked into a smaller room, glancing Jin’s silhouette and Taehyung just before him as he ducked into the lounge.  
“Here, take as long as you need” Jin was saying, and Jimin poked his head around the doorframe just in time to see Taehyung taking Jin’s phone out of his hand.  
“I’m really so sorr-thank you, I won’t be long.” Taehyung stuttered, Jin’s hand a comforting weight on his shoulder, as he looked down at the phone screen.  
Jimin took a deep breath, and jumped forward.

  
“AH!” Seokjin was knocked forward a little, Taehyung pouncing to the side just in time to avoid being toppled over, and Jimin had started laughing, but at the shriek he stopped, thinking that whacking Jin over the head with a squeaky toy hammer might actually get them arrested.  
Jin was holding his head when he whipped around to face Jimin, still stood in his doorway, with a stunned look on his face. But then he started laughing, if begrudgingly, at Jimin’s worried expression, and then a glance at Taehyung had him doubled over, clutching his stomach as happy giggles exploded out of his mouth.

“Aw~” Someone groaned, and for the first time, tearing his eyes of his victim after seeing that he wasn’t in mortal peril, Jimin understood.  
Well, he understood a little. Because it had been Taehyung that screamed, and Taehyung that had groaned in pain then, not Seokjin. He was rubbing his forehead and grumbling, as Jin tried and failed to control his laughter, his other hand cradling a little white ball.  
“What happened?” Jimin asked, and Taehyung’s pout was definitely turning upwards now, glances at Jin (whose face had become as red as his jacket from holding in his laughter, cheeks puffing out every two seconds as another round of giggles hit him) triggering his own laughter.  
  
“He threw a grenade at me!” Tae yelled, and Jin laughed as Jimin tilted his head to the side, confused but giggling now too.  
“What?” He asked, and Tae turned the thing in his hand around so Jimin could see it.  
It was a cricket ball, with a label curving round its middle reading ‘bomb’.  
“Nice hit, Jimin-ah.” Jin said, ruffling the hair at the back of his head where he’d been hit. “I have to admit I hadn’t thought of killing my target by sneaking into their house with a toy hammer.” Jimin felt pretty damn smug at that.  
“Though you clearly have no reservations on throwing bombs at civilians” Tae grumbled, and making all three boys giggle.  
Sorry, Taehyung-ah” Seokjin said, tone making it clear just how sorry he was, Tae glaring at him fakely. “Partners in crime are targets too, you know.”  
“Why does everyone keep trying to kill me?”


	4. Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hoseok and Namjoon. The final face-off. Dun, Dun, DUUUUN~

There was just one problem, Hoseok thought as he groaned into his pillow and moved his legs so wildly in the air his roommate stirred in the bed next to him.  
The problem was this: as soon as Hoseok’s phone vibrated with clues of his target’s identity, he’d known exactly who he was supposed to kill. And his stupid, complete ass of a tutor knew it too because that bitch had only given him one clue.

Perses.

One quick google session later and Hoseok discovered exactly who he was supposed to get rid of. Because Perses is a Titan, in Greek mythology. A titan of destruction.  
His targets Kim Frickin’ Namjoon.

Hoseok scurries into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, stuffing a beanie over his orange locks before flinging the door open and stomping dramatically outside. How can he kill Namjoon? They’ve known each other for so long, Hoseok was there to witness Namjoon’s Crayon Pop phase, for the love of all that is holy! There is nothing the pair don’t know about each other, and no doubt Namjoon, the brain monster that his best friend is, has already figured out the perfect murder technique. Jung Hoseok is literally a dead man walking. 

Oh well. No need to get so glum, Jung Hoseok, the boy thinks to himself. And in reality he probably shouldn’t worry as much as he does, because being so close to Namjoon means that as soon as he figured out who his target was, he came up with multiple ways in which he could kill him. ‘What’s friendship for?’ Hoseok thinks dryly (the voice in his head unsurprisingly sounding like Yoongi) as he walks through the market, seeking out the needed materials.  
He finds them after a good hour of scouring through the stalls, greatly regretting his outfit choice with the sun beating down on him as he searches, and sighs in relief when he gets back to his apartment lobby, out of the sun finally. He places the parcel in his hand in Namjoon’s pigeon hole and allows himself a slight smug smile as he hides behind the front desk, watching the seconds tick by as he waits for Namjoon to make his way through the lobby to his 11 o’clock class.    
He pulls the camera up on his phone just as he hears clumsy footsteps echo off the metal stairway, signalling someone’s journey to the lobby. He quickly places it on top of the desk so the camera is pointed at the lobby doors, and Namjoon comes barging through the door towards his mail, humming loudly to the music blasting through his earphones. Hoseok can hear the key turn in the lock as Namjoon gathers his mail in his arms and shuffles over to the coffee table, throwing himself down on the sofa there. He’s tempted to peek, because Namjoon doesn’t seem to have placed a package on the table, when Namjoon makes a little inquisitive noise at the back of his throat and stands up again.  
This time, Hoseok can here him pick up the little package with FRAGILE painted onto the cardboard in bright red print. He stands there holding it for a moment, and Hoseok almost gives himself away laughing at the image of Namjoon squinting down at the package and shaking it wildly that surfaces in his imagination.  
Namjoon doesn’t shake it though. 

“Fragile?” He reads quietly, and then makes another noise in the back of his throat, and Hoseok hears the package slide back against the metal as Namjoon places it back in his mailbox before locking it.  
WHAT? DAMN IT.  
Open the package Namjoon. Open it. Come on, I know you’re curious.  
But Namjoon doesn't go back to his mailbox, passing by Hoseok on his way back up his stairs- that idiot must have forgotten something again.  
Sighing, Hoseok darts out from behind the desk he was hiding behind and leaves the lobby, instantly hit by the harsh sun. He glances down at his phone, and decides that 10:55 is late enough for any human to sleep anyway. He braves it.  
“What the hell do you want, you punk.” Suga growls at him down the phone. Hoseok grimaces, but he had picked up the call, so at least he isn’t plotting his murder right this second.  
“Sorry hyung. But I don’t know what to do now! He didn’t open it, just left it lying in his mailbox! What-”  
“I swear Hoseok if you don’t stop using me to screech at I’m shoving your mattress out the window.”  
Hoseok stops mid-sentence, arms in the air as he flails, motionless. He pouts and lowers his arms, whining through the phone, making sure to be quieter this time, lest the dreaded image of his mattress swimming with the fish- his window opens out to a pond- becoming reality.  
“Hyung, don’t be like that. We both know I’m your favourite.” Suga makes a noise of non-committal over the line and hangs up.

Hoseok supposes it really is what he should have expected. Suga is warm and generous but if anyone gets between him and his sleep they will meet a slow and painful death, no matter who they are. Hoseok now only has two options left to consider: there’s Jungkook, who is generally helpful and good at everything, or Seokjin, who is infamous for his ingenuity for this game. And because Hoseok knows Suga, he’s probably one of a small handful of people that knows Seokjin hasn’t played this game twice before, but three times. The first time was in his first year here as a theatre major, when he met Suga, who studied music production.    
As the anti-social sloth he was, Suga had gotten his target and decided he couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it, and their complete dick of a teacher had decided to take credit off him, though that had never been part of the game. Seokjin may have, just slightly, cheated in that game, but he killed his ‘target’ fair and square. In front of his whole class.  
Somehow Seokjin had managed to kill his real target- the infamous glitter-bomb explosion that became campus legend- and then got someone to text him a second set of clues from their teachers phone. The clues had been about their teacher, and the following day the poor soul had been tormented to the point of mental breakdown- it had started with the classic cling-film around the door frame, a whoopee cushion under the upholstery of his seat, a fake message of a virus on the computer that technically belonged to the college, and Seokjin had even managed to get there early and replace the powerpoint with one of his own: How to escape Social sciences.  
Needless to say, Seokjin had been kicked off the programme, but everyone but their tortured teacher saw that as a plus too, because Jin still kept up his Theatre Major without the boredom of the necessary social science lessons everyone hated so much. Suga didn’t get any credit back, but he had laughed so hard the day of the pranks he became closer to Seokjin than anyone else expected of a pair so dissimilar.

Smiling widely at the memory of a tipsy Seokjin and Suga telling him the story of how they met, Hoseok decides that he really ought to phone Seokjin and get advice from an expert.  
“Hyung? It’s Hoseok.” He says jovially down the phone, only to hold it quickly away from his phone as Jin starts wailing like a banshee through the connection.  
“Hoseok-ah! My reputation is ruined! I’ll never show my face again! I’m a disgrace!”  
“Where are you right now, hyung?”     Hoseok asks patiently, knowing full well where the older spends his time this time of day.  
The line is silent for a moment. “The campus cafe” Seokjin says quietly, scolded.  
“Hi hyung!” Someone in the background screams, and Hoseok chuckles.  
“Say hello to Taehyung for me, would you, hyung?”  
“Sure” there’s scuffling around on the other side, confusing Hoseok until an almighty screech, followed by a whiny “Hyuuuung.” Seokjin sits back down as Jungkook’s laughter filters through the phone, and Hoseok pictures- and he’s right this time- a very startled Taehyung with ruffled hair, sweater stretched over one shoulder from struggling, cheeks pinched pink and dotted with tiny lip-tint stains. Jungkook can’t stop laughing over the line, even though it sounds like Tae’s beating him to a pulp.  
“What’s up, Hoseok-ah?” Jin asks, as if there isn’t a fight going on in front of his eyes, completely forgetting about his own wailing complaints at the beginning of their conversation.  
“Well my target’s Namjoon” Seokjin can’t seem to decide whether to ‘ooh’ or laugh hysterically at this “and I thought of the perfect way to get him, but it didn’t work!”  
“What’s the plan?” Seokjin asks, and Hoseok tells him about the package and the pure gem of a thing he managed to find at the market, and Seokjin laughs so hard when he tells him Kookie and Tae start complaining about feeling left out of the joke.  
“Thats-oh- that’s brilliant Hoseok!”  
“But he didn’t open it!”  
Hoseok can practically hear the cogs turning in Jin’s devious little head. “Don’t worry about it- I’ll call him now and tell him I sent him something, he’ll open it then.”  
Hoseok tried not to think about what Namjoon now thinks is in that package as he thanks his hyung and hangs up.

 

Jung Hoseok is a wounded man. As he drags his stiff, abused body towards the sofa in the lobby of his apartment block, he sighs heavily and groans when he throws himself down on it. It had happened so quickly he feels like he’s still in shock, not quite believing how savage his friend had been a couple of hours prior.  
He’d fallen asleep in the dance studio after lunch, having burnt himself up completely trying to perfect the dance he’d choreographed for the college festival next month. When he woke up, refreshed after peaceful dreams and thinking all was right with the world, he’d heaved himself up, hands on the mirrored wall behind him. He’d taken one stop and-  
Floor.  
All up in his face because as soon as he’d moved he’d toppled face first onto the wood.  
Kim. Bloody. Namjoon.  
He must have found Hoseok dozing off, because when Hoseok wiggles awkwardly on the floor to get up, he finds his laces have been tied together. And then duct taped.  
Hoseok isn’t really sure whether his face-planting so magnificently would ‘kill’ him, but he doesn’t think so, so he penguin waddles to the door as quickly as he can manage.  
Only to find it locked.  
“What the…” Hoseok slides down the door and manages to untangle himself, chosing to ignore the panic bubbling up and making his pulse race.  
The key that had been in his pocket seems to have magically disappeared. A glance at his phone tells him that it's half past six in the afternoon. Too late for classes to still be going on, too early for majors to return for practice after a break for dinner. He was well and truly abandoned in a dark building and locked in a tiny practice room by himself. 

You're fine Jung Hoseok. You are not dying at college. You're fine. 

By the time he breaks free, he's drenched in his own sweat and every muscle aches from pounding at the door for so long, shouted ‘excuse me!’s having scratched his throat raw, and abused even more after finally accepting his fate and crawling out of a window even Jimin hadn't been able to fit through (it's so dark outside Hoseok supposes Jimin must have snuck in quite recently, but his phone had fallen out of his pocket during his squirming and he has no idea what day it is anymore.)  
Needless to say, Hoseok is now completely consumed by the idea of sweet, sweet revenge…  
And ramyeon. Someone trying to starve you to death really takes it out of you.

 

And so Hoseok finds himself here, scurrying up off of the sofa and diving behind that desk again- AW- as Namjoon’s- as he-who-must-be-destroyed’s voice floats down from the stairwell.  
The bastard is giggling. GIGGLING.  
“What is it? Tell me hyuuung~”  
Hoseok tried to stifle his laughter in his hands, cursing his luck that his poor phone is still locked inside that dance room, itching to record the future blackmail material that Namjoon’s aegyo would provide.  
“Babe! Tell me!” There's a click as Namjoon opens his mailbox again, and then a confused ‘huh?’. Hoseok prays Seokjin’s flirting won't fail him now.  
“Wha- babe it says ‘fragile’ seriously what is it?”  
Namjoon’s taking the package out of the mailbox- finally!- and the faint hum of Seokjin’s voice can be heard because of the closer proximity.  
“I thought this was Hoseok-” Namjoon’s reflection on the lobby doors behind straightens, his head dipping to the side in confusion. “He's my target. Yeah, I'm sure.  Well because who else would ‘dance major, street, converse’ be?”  
Namjoon paused, listening, and Hoseok winced and threw a hand up to muffle his breathing, but it was only because Jin had started talking. Namjoon laughed suddenly- thank God Hoseok was hiding because the amount he jumped would have been slightly incredibly humiliating- “Ramyeon deprivation. I locked him in a practice room- I’m going to go unlock it in a minute with a nerf gun- Taehyung thought of that too? I’m not sure whether that’s a good thing..”  
Namjoon had been ripping into the package as he spoke, and now he paused, with it open in front of him.  
“Babe?” Seokjin’s noise of non-committal could be heard from where Hoseok was hiding, slowly making his way over to where Namjoon sat as quietly as possible. “It’s glass.” A few mumbled words down the line and the giggles Namjoon made were seriously tormenting. Hoseok thought for a moment he would just go wash one hundred times and let Joon kill him.  
Finally, Hoseok had managed to army-crawl over to the seat Namjoon was sat on, directly behind his poor, unknowing victim, just as Namjoon picked up what was in the package.

 

The younger boy gazes down at the small glass dagger in his palm, turning it up towards the lobby light. And then Hoseok springs forward, grabs Namjoon’s arm- the one in the sling, really the amount of self-inflicted injuries is ridiculous- and pushes his palm into his stomach, effectively ‘stabbing’ him. Namjoon howls and springs away.  
“What the hell! Where did you even come from?” His eyes are so huge when he looks at Hoseok that the older boy can’t help the fit of hysterics that follow. Seokjin’s laugh is loud enough that his laughter is also heard.  
“Got you, Namjoonie” Hoseok teases. He’s more than a little smug.  
“Looks like that big brain of yours couldn’t save you this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading !   
>  We've decided to add to the Assassin Games- each person will write a band on the same campus when the game starts, as the Bangtan Assassin games was a one person fic, so there will now be spin-offs written by the other two people on this account :)


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